Control
by jayilyse
Summary: "Better quiet down. Don't wanna get caught now, do we?" (Rated M for reasons that can easily be gathered by the summary.)


You live, eat, and breathe this base.

It's your home. Not only because of the memories made; it's because you like the people here. You meant to treat people equally and fairly. That's not quite how it worked out. It didn't take you long to realize your favorite person in this place is –

"Christa!"

Ymir.

You love Ymir in every sense of the word. You don't know if she feels the same way, exactly. You do know, however, that she likes experiments. And that's why you learned the layout of this base like the back of your hand. All the buildings in the base have spaces between them. Luckily, someone your size is able to fit in them. Along with someone else. No one really patrols the area you're particularly set on being in, either. If someone is there, what will you do? Your heart rams against your chest at the thought. Ymir calls your name again; You see her silhouette closing the distance between you. Okay, now it's time to calm down. You wave and she smirks at you. Soon, she's right in front of you.

"Hey, short stuff. Waiting for me?"

"Maybe," you say, attempting to be playful. "Maybe not."

"Oh? I'd say you were." She says, sly smile in tow.

You don't want to lie – you were waiting for her. It's hard to think of witty comments on the spot, too; she always catches you when you have no comeback. So you stick your tongue out at her instead.

"What are you? five?"

You, once again, have no comeback to that. You feel the pout coming on and the heat making its way to your cheeks, creeping in. She laughs. It's great to hear, even if it's a laugh at you. After she stops she puts her arm around your shoulders.

"C'mon, let's go. It'll be dark soon."

Right now, you're standing in front of the cafeteria. Ymir asked for some alone time for a while; you told her to go right ahead. Where has she been? You have no idea and you probably won't ask. Usually you two would go to the barracks earlier than this. It's typically empty since everyone stays at the mess hall late to enjoy the company. You and Ymir usually finish early and go to the barracks and talk. Or kiss. Or more.

And that brings you to the current task.

"Ymir?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we, uh, try something different today?"

Her arm comes off your shoulder as the two of you start to walk. You have tried that; it wound up with you falling, her trying to catch you but tripping over you, and her landing on top of you instead. At first you didn't understand the implications of the position. It wasn't something you thought of until you stood up. Ymir's gaze averted yours, her fingers covering the lower half of her face as if she was hiding something – a blush? You couldn't figure out why until several moments later – you covered your face and looked away too. Eventually the two of you looked at each other and managed to get to the mess hall, albeit with a little awkward tension. It made you start thinking about it.

You asked yourself if you were even interested in sex. You hadn't done anything sexual – even to yourself. It was a bit embarrassing to think about. There was something in you that said try it. It intrigued you to no end; what would it be like to hear Ymir being fully pleasured instead of only tiny moans? It wasn't too long after that when you two had your first time together – she was very gentle with you, although she gave a bit of a fight when you wanted to touch her. It took you quite a long time to make her moan loudly; you made plenty of blunders – it's safe to say you weren't a natural. But she was patient. You learned her body and she learned yours. Long gone is the girl who knew nothing; and now you want to be more adventurous.

"Like?" Ymir asks with a hint of amusement in her tone.

You smile at her, tugging at her sleeve. She raises an eyebrow, but allows you to drag her to where you want to go; it's not like you're using any force anyway. She could leave your grasp at any moment, yet she still follows you. That's generally how you feel about the relationship. You know she could leave, and with your secret? She probably should. You don't want to think about it or else you'll get choked up. Keep your eyes on the prize – you bring her into the space between the two buildings that are closest together, near the edge of camp. There's room enough here that if Ymir wants there could be some distance.

Ymir's brow furrows, confusion on her features. When you've led her far enough in, you lean against the wall.

"Bend down, please?"

She quirks her mouth as she does what you asked.

Grabbing the collar of the under shirt beneath her uniform jacket, you pull her into you, putting your lips together a lot more softly than you had planned. She's taken aback, still – an "mmph!" comes from her lips – however, it doesn't stop her from kissing back. When you take a break from the kiss to breathe, her lips hovering centimeters away from yours, she talks.

"What's this about, Christa?"

That is not the reaction you were hoping for; you were hoping she wouldn't question it. That she would go with the flow. You don't want to admit what you want. Some people consider it abnormal and you know it. But she's looking at you with those piercing, russet brown eyes and you have no choice but to spew out some sort of answer.

"Semi-public sex?"

It comes out as a question when you don't really mean it be. It takes her a few seconds to comprehend what you just said, from the looks of it. You take your hands off her collar, letting them hang by your respective sides limply with the exception of your fingers curling into your palm and out. It's a nervous habit of yours. You're surprised that steam isn't coming out of your ears. To your amazement, she puts her hand under your chin, lifting it up toward her more, and speaks.

"I didn't think you were that kinky."

You respond without a thought.

"There's more to me than you think."

A grin, and then she closes the space between you two – her lips an incessant push against yours. It's slow to burn but turns passionate, demanding . Her kisses trail away from your lips, up your jaw, and to your ear. Licking your outer earlobe first, she exhales, making her breath flow out in a steady, controlled stream. Not too much. It's enough to send your head spinning as she moves back down your jaw, placing her lips on yours once again, asking for entry with her tongue.

You grant access, swirling your tongue around hers as she helps you of your jacket. You help her out of hers and in the midst of things her shirt goes too. Her clothes and your jacket eventually hit the ground as Ymir's hands make their way back to you. She goes from a tender caress of your neck downward, and as her hands massage your breasts through your shirt you moan a little.

"Better quiet down. Don't wanna get caught now, do we?"

She's right. You know she's right. But it's so hard when she knows exactly what she's doing. When she's about to continue, her face lights up – the way it does when a devious idea pops into her head. Oh no. This can't be good.

"We're going a little too fast. I'm gonna make this last as long as –"

Oh _/God/_ no, you are too turned on for this.

"Ymir, if you don't fuck me this instant I will personally see to it that you regret nothing more than this."

The look of shock on her face is priceless; the mischievous smile on her face after is gold. She always likes a challenge.

"Punishment, eh? Don't think I won't take you up on that."

She doesn't think you will do it. The thought of it makes something stir inside of you – that's not fair. She always gets to have her way with you. Even if she's always asking if what she's doing is okay, she stays in the position of power. Selfish as she may be, you're not a play thing. For once, you want control. It's time to return the favor. Before you second guess yourself, you take your hand and cover her mouth.

"Move it without permission and we stop immediately."

You can tell she's amused by this show of bravado. She only kisses the hand you have on her in response.

It's not a joke. You'll show her it's not.

With a fierce determination, you go after her neck; sucking, you make red splotches on her tan skin. You don't know if those will go away in time for no one to notice. You also don't care. You lick the areas you sucked with the tip of your tongue, tracing around their outer edges. You nibble a little – lower; continuing down to Ymir's collar bone, you kiss the soon-to-be bruises you made there. You hear a small sound that reverberates against your palm. You look up to meet her stare.

"Better quiet down, Ymir. Don't want to get caught now, do we?" you say with fake innocence.

Her pupils are starting to dilate. Her eyes begin to film over. The urge to hear her is tempting; the urge to take your hand off – not yet. You can't just yet. Her arms are around you, holding you to her. You rub the side of one of her breasts with your palm, using your thumb to rub her hardened nipple at the same time. Her breath stops and starts again when you place your mouth on it and envelop it with your tongue. You give some attention to the other side of her chest as well.

Your arm can only stretch so far, though, so in order to keep your hand on her mouth you know you have to go back up. With that in mind, you kiss back up to Ymir's neck and nip harder than necessary. You want her to do as you say, no questions asked. It's sort of nerve-wracking to keep command in a way.

"Unbuckle your pants."

You can see the absolute lust she has for you right now. It's written all over her. She has to be enjoying it – you think. She wants you. You know it. She will listen without a fight; at least you hope. You hear the clink of metal and, without having to tell her to, she eagerly unbuttons her pants. She's being good. Why not give her a reward? After all, it would be nice of you. You give her a once-over, licking your lips. You want to touch her; you want to touch her so badly.

"I'm going to take my hand off. You can speak softly."

You move to take your hand off, however, before it's completely off her face, Ymir grabs your wrist loosely. You try to figure out what she's up to. You don't know until your finger is in her mouth, being sucked. Her tongue seems to glide around your finger – okay, fingers now – swiftly, adept at what it's doing. She's never done this to you before. Is this what happens when you turn her on to this extent? You can't take this anymore. She kisses the tip of one finger just before you take them out completely; you make zigzag tracks with them down her neck and stomach, which incites a shiver. You go lower and lower, making all sorts of shapes with the very tips of your recently cut nails, until you reach her underwear. You cup her panties in your palm; they're soaked.

"Ready?" you ask.

She nods her head with fervor. Your head is probably as foggy as hers right now. Yet, despite how much you want her to touch you, it's your turn to fight back. Are you ready, Christa? You give a subtle nod of affirmation to yourself.

Good.

Your hand delves into Ymir, finding her clit almost right away. You rub circles around it; you don't touch it directly at first, but when you glaze over the top of it, her breath hitches. You go around and around, doing this many times until you feel she's ready. You wait until she exhales her breath, as she has a habit of holding it, before you take your thumb off. She's slick enough for two fingers to go in at once, you think – and with that said, you put two of them in.

Her mouth contorts to a shape akin to an "O" as she pushes you back against the wall, grinding against your fingers. You manage to catch your footing, although you were taken by surprise and fell down it a tad. Her legs are now in between your thighs, making you straddle her. You pull your fingers in and out, in and out – her moans start to gain in volume and you –

/_Crunch/._

...What was that?

_/Crunch, crunch/._

Fuck, someone's coming. You're about to panic; what if someone catches the two of you? What will happen? Will you both be kicked out? Is there a way out of this? There has to be a way out of this –

Wait.

That's... odd.

Inside of you something starts boiling. This sensation isn't entirely new. It's similar to the adrenaline rushes you sometimes get after a day of training. Is this thrilling to you? This is absolutely the most messed up thing you have felt, yet you can't help it. You can feel yourself bursting with energy. It makes you want to move faster, harder, rougher. She heard it too apparently, as she's switching between glancing at each side that someone could come from, left and right. Will she move away from you? You can feel her attention ebbing away. No. You don't want that. You want her to pay attention to you and you alone right now.

You take hold of her neck, bringing her down so you can crash your lips into hers. She makes a sound, but it's muffled by your lips. You thrust into her harder, and bend your fingers into a hook shape. The way she's moving, the sounds that are escaping her lips by accident because she knows people are there lets you know you've hit the right spot. Your kiss has become sloppy. Who cares if you get caught at this point? You certainly don't. You're sure that the sound of dirt crunching beneath people's feet is going farther and farther away anyway, but it doesn't matter anymore.

What does matter to you is Ymir's pleasure. You stop the kiss. You can concentrate on it fully now – her face, her body, her everything – oh God her face is completely flushed; she's shaking and you're shaking and all you want is to make her scream so loud that someone would come running – you don't know if you can keep this up because your hand is cramping ; you keep going because the sounds she's making – louder now that the patrol is gone – are amazing and this is amazing in itself. Entirely pure and primal; she's so utterly perfect right now that your heart aches. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears; they're threatening to come out the corners. She's panting and muttering. she bites her lip so hard that it bleeds; you're slightly worried about it, except you can save that for later. For now you just want her to enjoy this.

"Fuck, Christa," Ymir says, a small pause between each word. She tried to enunciate the "c" sound and failed. The last part of it comes out as a long moan and for fuck's sake that is hotter than you imagined it would be. She hasn't really said your name before – not like that. Your arm is still on her neck and she's hunching over and her face is right above yours; her arm's against the wall trying to grip on something and getting nothing. She brings her other arm up behind her head and tugs her own hair. There's sweat all over her and she's thrusting, bucking, anything to have more of you – go faster, Christa; more.

"Fucking – Christa – I'm –"

Ymir isn't able to finish her sentence before her jaw goes slack and her eyes become completely clouded and unfocused . You're proud of yourself – that was louder than she normally is at the very end. She contracts and clenches around your hand. You slow down, helping her ride her orgasm – coaxing out as much as you can . She's breathless. You can feel her knees quivering as her arms fall to her side; they probably feel like dead weight right now. Her legs too. You think she might actually fall at this rate. You take your arm and hand off of her neck and wrap it around her waist. You slip your other hand out of her, licking it clean before you pull her closer to you. You give a peck to her shoulder, to her collar bone, to her chest, to anywhere you can reach, really. When she calms down a little more you wrap your other arm around her. You lay your head against her chest. Shutting your eyes, you listen to everything; the way her breathing slows along with her heartbeat. It's a minute or so before you feel her arms wrap around you too. She kisses the top of your head, keeping the contact for a couple of seconds.

Ymir breaks your embrace after that; she moves backwards and pulls up her underwear and pants. She fastens her belt buckle back together quickly. She's a little quiet after that – too quiet. You begin to wonder if maybe you did something wrong – she's not looking at you. What could you have done, though? You don't think you did anything wrong. She sounded like she loved it –

"Christa," she says softly, almost like a whisper. You barely hear it. Her fingers grip her opposite arm with enough force that her fingernails make obvious dents in her skin. Staring her in the eye, you wait for her to say anything; anything at all. You can't read her expression. Fear and worry rise into your throat – threatening to close it up.

"I love you."

You lean in closer. You didn't hear it. You feel bad for having to ask again.

"Can you say that again?"

She looks so flustered. You can't tell what she's trying to say at all.

"I,"

You have never seen her trying so hard to say anything. Ymir never hesitates. She always makes her intentions known. You're dreading what she has to say. You're tempted to tell her not to say it at all – your stomach, that had minutes ago felt the pleasurable flipping when you're with someone you like, is now churning. You don't like this feeling. Her hands are balled in fists. She stands straighter; it makes her look taller than she already is.

"I love you."

Ymir says it louder and clearer this time. Her eyes shut tight as she states it – is she crying? She's crying; oh God, she's crying. You 're confused; you've seen her sad but she has never had tears stream down her face in front of you. You're stunned, suffice to say. What do you do? Has she cried like this before when you're not there to hold her? You don't know why she's crying. Yet, you practically throw yourself at her, maneuver your arms around her again, and start to cry with her. You have always been a sympathy crier. Most of all, you're crying for a self-centered reason. You thought she would never say it. You thought she would never return your feelings or love you the same way. There's no sobbing. Just silent tears and some sniffling on your part.

When she embraces you back she has a tight hold on you – as if someone was trying to tear you from her. She's whispering "I loves you"s over and over. When she stops there's a moment where you just stand there, holding each other. No words. Simply emotion. Of course, you have to go and break it. She needs to know what you think too.

"I love you too."

She bends down; she starts to place kisses all over your face – nose, forehead, cheek, eyelids – name it, she gave you a kiss there. When she lifts herself up her eyes are a mix of emotions. You can't tell what they are. Her smile is broad, though. And that's enough for you.

It's a while before the two of you snap back to reality. You separate from her with a bit of hesitation; Ymir takes a fist and wipes at her eyes with the back of it. Then she coughs into it a little bit.

"Shall we go back?" you ask.

She slowly, seemingly reluctantly, places her palm in yours, giving it a squeeze, and pulls her hand back.

"Yeah."

"Then maybe you should put your shirt and jacket back on."

"Your jacket too."

She smirks at you. It's not a witty remark; It's not a comeback. She just does it. Somehow, though it's unlike her, you don't worry about it. You walk to the "entrances" of the space you and her are between, looking side to side, checking for anyone on nightly patrol. No one's there so you and she walk back to the barracks in a relaxed sort of silence. You don't mind it. When you two arrive at the barracks she kisses your cheek before you enter. It's just about time for bed. Sasha walks over when you enter and so does Hannah. Hannah opens her mouth to speak.

"Where have you guys been? It's pretty late, you know."

Ymir puts her arms around your shoulder, replying swiftly with her usual jokes and a wink .

"I ran away with Christa and showed her a good time."

You blush and look toward the wooden floor. Wasn't it the other way around, though? It doesn't matter – everyone thinks she's teasing. Hannah looks at you and then her, shaking her head.

"You really should stop teasing her like that." she says, giving a smile all the same, continuing on to say she doesn't know how you deal with Ymir. Ymir's expression turns blank. You want to know what she's thinking. However, everyone is putting out their candles and going to bed. You bid everyone good night. Before Ymir takes her leave, she whispers in your ear.

"Thanks for the punishment. I'll get my revenge."

It feels like a jolt of lightning goes down your spine and you shiver. She's already walking to her own bed so you have no time to say anything else. Walking to yours, you lay down, exhausted. It's still new to you; the fact that you can make Ymir like this. It's a great feeling. Her tears worry you, but she said she loves you. It felt sincere – no, was sincere. And you love her too. You will always be there for her even if she won't tell you the problem.

When all is said and done, that's what counts.


End file.
